I get it guys, we are all getting soft in our old age and love the nostalgic feelings we get thinking of our concert-going days of yore. But there is no way you will sucker me into a warm and fuzzy revisionist history of Roseland. (Next thing you know you will be trying to convince me that the horrible blue neon sign at Sin-e did NOT burn holes in your corneas when you accidentally looked at it.)

Look, I can’t vouch for what it was like there pre-2000, but based on my own personal memories and experiences at that place, I am pretty sure that ROSELAND BALLROOM WAS THE WORST VENUNE IN NEW YORK CITY. PERIOD. That place had horrible sight lines, terrible sound, and for some reason it always was full of mean frat boys who would spill beer on you. (Except for that one time I went to see David Gray with my friend Joe… then it was pleasantly filled with mellowed out DMB fans and lesbians.)

Do you want to know how I know this? Here are some examples from the archives re: dear ol’ Roseland:

Tonight’s Roseland show defo had more enthusiasm since many more people knew all the new songs, but the crowd was lame in that “Roselandy” way we are all too familiar. You know what I mean. Something about going to Roseland always brings out crazy dudes who just want to push little girls down to the ground. I saw two guys get into a fight as one guy was leaving. Seriously, who gets into fights just as they are about to go? Some drunk guy turned around, screamed at me and gave me a face full of his Jack and Coke scented breath as I walked out of the concert for no real reason. The wonderful Maxwell’s show it was not.

November 25, 2003: Post from the Little Room message board about a White Stripes show at Roseland:

Only towards the end did security stomp through the crowd and remove just 1 of the idiots. One poor girl had to be taken out of the crowd she was so banged up. Then during the encore, Jack announces they got 1 song left for us – It’s Boll Weevil.

They begin – and the crowd surfing has started to pick up. Jack tells Meg to stop. He says “We’ll just wait until this guy finishes (referring to a crowd surfer)”. Then he goes “So Everyone get their teenage angst out tonight?????!!!!!!” Of course he was being sarcastic but the idiots didn’t realize it. Bollweevil resumes. Then during a solo, that’s it. Jack has had enough. He throws down his guitar and leans over the stage and starts screaming at a crowd surfer. He gets back to Mic:

“I am sick of these Frat F*ckers crashing our gig! People are just trying to have a good time, not have some A**hole crash down on their neck!!!” He takes a breath. “And now the last verse, which is about myself”. And the show ends smoothly.

April 3, 2006: Describing the worst venue I’ve ever been to in the USA, the Electric Factory in Philly, in the only way I knew how:

I think it was a combo of the fact that the EF is the pit of hell (think of Roseland, but worse–luckily I was in the balcony.

So there you have it folks, I’m definitely not sorry to see that place go.

I was very happy to have Purity Ring be my first concert of 2013 at their first stop on this leg of their American tour, at the NYC show at Webster Hall.

A lot has changed for the duo since the first time I saw them in 2011 at CMJ: At the start of 2012 they were signed by 4AD and Last Gang Records, and in July of that year they released their stellar debut album, Shrines.

The difference was even clear from their stage setup – still the same arrangement — “percussions” on the left side of the stage for Corin Roddick, and a bass-drum type instrument that singer Megan James occasionally beats — but this time suspended from the ceiling were creepy/ethereal light cocoons that would light up in sync with the music.

I’ve always been impressed by how no-nonsense and professional Purity Ring have been despite the band’s young age. As per usual, their show went off with not so much as a hitch — with Ms. James commanding the stage with her sweet, yet somehow powerful disposition. Diminutive in stature, with some of the tiniest hands I’ve ever seen, she often elegantly swiped her hand across the stage, as if to cast some sort of magical spell on the audience. When she wasn’t doing that, she’d sway up and down, ball-heeling herself to the beat, or grabbing a portable work light with a metal guard and holding it above and below her face for dramatic effect.

They also performed a cover of Soulja Boy’s “Grammy” — giving the rap tune a totally new spin. Loved this version!:

Brooklyn band (and CMJ 2011 TMA fave) Young Magic also performed, although my enjoyment of their performance was severely hampered by the unbelievable bass-heavy sound system at Webster Hall, which literally had me dry heaving b/c my vocal cords were bouncing against one another with every surge of Young Magic’s drum machine. If you stand front and center at the main stage of that venue, and the band happens to be bass heavy, you are in for a world of pain. Every time a song would start and the bass kicked in, my stomach would hold on to the rest of my body for dear life. I kept thinking – “I don’t want to die at Webster Hall!” (Can someone, for the love of god, fix that sound system?)

I remember a time when I would be headed out to a show around 9 or 10 and someone in my family would say with exasperation, “I can’t believe you’re going out this late!” and I would kinda scoff and roll my eyes and think, “OMG, IT’S NOT EVEN LATE!” as I rushed out the door to meet my friends.

Today, as I was putting on my Chucks in my apartment at 8:50pm in preparation to head over to Bowery Electric to catch a 9:20 set by JJAMZ for CMJ, I found myself thinking, “OH MY GOD it’s so late! I CAN’T BELIEVE I’M GOING OUTSIDE.” As I made my way over to the venue this was the running loop of commentary:

“Why are there so many people outside?”

“How can that girl walk in those shoes?”

“Aren’t those girls cold? They’re not even wearing jackets!”

“Are those people eating ice cream? Should they be eating so close to their bedtime?”

“That girl looks like she’s on her way to a nightclub!”

The reason I found myself asking those questions has one very simple answer: I am old and never go out, so the idea that other people are out when I’m normally in bed watching last night’s “Daily Show” on Hulu is kinda a foreign concept to me. (BTW – The answers to those questions are: “Because it’s not even 9 o’clock.” “She can’t.” “They are drunk.” “Their bedtime is nowhere near.” “I believe it’s called a ‘bar’.”)

Anyhoo, as I approached Bowery Electric, I noticed a mass of people outside: people in bands, people who looked like groupies of bands, people who looked like they might be from LA — yup, I was in the right place.

I headed down the stairs and up to the front of the stage just as JJAMZ was starting. Perfect tardy timing!

What can I say about JJAMZ that I haven’t already said? As predicted, the band was a pop-tastic experiment in peppy, toe-tapping tunes. That’s the great thing about supergroups — you’re pretty much guaranteed a solid time — these people have proven themselves in other musical outfits, and you kinda know what you are getting.

I’ve known about The Like for quite some time, but have never actually seen them perform, so much of my observation was focused on Elizabeth “Z” Berg, lead vocalist of The Like and more relevantly, of JJAMZ. It wouldn’t take a genius to make comparisons between the physical likeness that Z Berg has with rock icon Debbie Harry, but I’m going have to go on record right now as noticing because it is a bit uncanny.

The chin-length blonde hair, the defined cheekbones, the perfectly pursed lipsticked lips, the lone lady in a band of dudes — all the pieces are all there. Wearing a pair of fire engine red hot pants, a snug fitting short-sleeved sweater with a bicycle printed on it, and a pair of deadly stiletto boots, Z Berg seemed to unabashedly be playing the part of indie rock pin-up girl, which for some reason (justified or not) seemed to me to be appropriate “LA” of her.

With a girlish voice, that got rough around the edges during the end of phrases, even vocally Berg seemed to be channeling her patron saint of music. (My assumption that Debbie Harry is someone she looks up to is not without proof — earlier this year she told Harper’s Bazaar that her personal style is “somewhere between Twiggy, Debbie Harry and Cher Horowitz.”) I’m not sure if her onstage pouts, frequent hair tousling, satisfied just-woke-up-from-bed stretches were designed to give me a clear indication of what Berg must be like in bed, but that’s what they achieved.

At one point a dubious beer-bellied character wearing no shirt, got on stage between songs and soy bombed the JJAMZ set with a plug for a booze for charity event he (or someone) was running at the upstairs bar, after which Michael Runion quipped, “Hey Z Berg, someone who is wearing less clothes than you on stage!”

There set was over after 7 or so songs — their time was up, and they were headed to Santos for another gig. I was headed towards the door as soon as the last chord was strummed by Alex Greenwald.

Believe it or not, this will be the 11th CMJ I’ve attended (yes, that’s right, I started going to CMJ when I was 11 years old. Amazing, I know). During the time I first started attending the annual event, things were very different. CMJ felt really really important to me at the time — this was the age of Napster, and the Velvet Rope message board, and loads of other stuff that will make me feel old to remember them. This was before SXSW blew up and Coachella was a two-week affair. It was where I was introduced to bands like the Walkmen, Interpol, Ida Maria, Hospitality, and more recently, bands like Dale Earnhardt Jr. Jr., Grimes, and Purity Ring, so it will always hold a special place in my heart.

So every year, without fail, I dust off my old lady body and try to stay up late with the kids for a few nights. Here are the bands worth me dragging my lazy behind out the door and into the brisk NYC fall weather:

I’ve been keen on this Kiwi outfit since catching their album, Electric Hawaii, on the Rdio new releases list. The collaboration between Kody Nielson and Bic Runga has produced some wonderfully beachy, laid-back tunes that in their poppier moments remind me of the opening credit soundtrack for a 1960s screwball romantic comedy.

My knowledge of Sky Ferreira extended to her being some model who somehow always seems to end up in Terry Richardson’s photos, so I was honestly surprised to find out that she also (apparently) has a budding music career, with an EP coming out on Capitol Records this week. I was even more amazed that the single “Everything Is Embarrassing” is actually very very good — with its seductive ’80s sensitive pop ballad throw-back vibe.

This two-person songwriting team (Erin Fein and Brett Sanderson) produces music that leans synth-mysterious (I realize that’s not a real musical genre). For some reason they sound like Warpaint meets Neon Indian.

Night of 10/16 – Pianos: 1:20am
10/20 – Pianos: 9:45pm
BTW, the CMJ schedule is totally wrong, they are on at 1:20am according to this tweet from Lefse Records:

This group of Dubliners have got a pleasing toe-tapping quality to their fellow Glassnote Records labelmates, Mumford and Sons. Their pedigree is impressive, having worked on recording their debut album this summer with producer Markus Dravs (who has also worked with Mumford and Sons, Coldplay). This month will be the first time they will be performing in the US. Looking forward to see them live!

TOPSVII Babies by TOPS
Fellow Montreal native GRIMES is a fan, so I think you can imagine what they sound like. I saw somewhere on the internet someone describe them as the XX, but happier, and it’s a pretty fair assessment.

10/17 – Shea Stadium
10/19 – Arlene’s Grocery
10/20 – Death by Audio

JJAMZ
What would a CMJ be nowadays without a superband performing? This time the collage of talent comes from a California base — comprised of Jason Boesel (Rilo Kiley, Bright Eyes), James Valentine (Maroon 5), Alex Greenwald (Phantom Planet), Michael Runion (solo) and Z Berg (The Like). Their resume’s are impressive. Expect solid pop music to please your ears.

Wow. Can you believe it? Everyone made it through the second night of Jack White‘s two-gig stint at New York City’s famed Radio City Music Hall.

No one got yelled at! No one got booed at! No one got stabbed! No one got shot! No one got called a NPR listener! An amazing, heroic job by all. I don’t want to brag, but I’m pretty sure everyone who was there will be nominated for a Nobel Peace Price. *Buffs nails on shoulder* Just sayin’. Is group Catholic sainthood even a thing? Because it should be after this show.

All kidding aside, tonight’s show went very different than last night’s 50 minute set/mini-audience riot. This one went on with no incident for about 1 hour and 20 minutes. Jack and his lady band (the Peacocks) played about an hour long regular set, went off stage for 5 mins and promptly came back to bang out another 15 minutes or so, ending the night just around 10:30pm.

As soon as Jack set foot on the stage, the audience rose to their feet and did not sit down the entire time. A clap-along began during “We’re Going to Be Friends” but slowly petered out half way. The crowd was re-energized by the hard rockin’ ditties “Freedom at 21” and “Sixteen Saltines.”

Jack said not one word to the audience except for “Thank you” right before he and the band too their final bows. I found this a bit strange — he normally does do a little bit of banter, and almost always introduces the band — but none of that tonight. It was strictly business as they powered through the set, with gusto and precision, but lacking that special something that separates the good shows from the great shows.

When I saw Jack and the Buzzards before a few months ago at the Wiltern in LA, Jack was whizzing and whirling around the stage, sliding to his knees, jumping on top of the bass drum, and chatting every once and again to the crowd. Tonight it seemed like he was a little bit more reserved — towards the end of the set on classic jams like “Dead Leaves on the Dirty Ground” and “Ball and a Biscuit,” he would add a little flair to his guitar solos, but not nearly the level of swagger I’m accustomed to seeing.

Got to admit, I was a little nervous when Jack and co went offstage after the regular set:

All in all a solid show, well worth the price of admission. It was TB’s very first Jack White show (and first show at Radio City!) and he really enjoyed it, saying “that’s just awesome” when Jack was on piano, and commenting how great of a musician he is. Success!

Uh oh. Sounds like the sh*t went down. On the first night of his two night stand at Radio City Music Hall, Jack White and his band played a 50 minute set, at the end of which they left the stage…and did not return. After about 30 minutes of trying to get an encore, the announcer came on stage and told the show-goers that the gig was over and that they should leave. That is when people started freaking out, chanting “F*ck you, Jack!” and “We like Meg better anyway!”

Needless to say, the angry masses took to Twitter with their protests, typing out all types of snarky swipes (some more eloquent than others) and venting their boiling, uncontainable rage for the GALL of Jack White to only play a 50 minute set. Has everyone completely lost their minds and forgotten that a normal White Stripes set could be just over one hour?

I too would be disappointed that the show had not been longer, but people, since when was it a rule that a performer come back to the stage if he doesn’t want to? Last time I checked it was a free country.

Which I would interpret in Jack-speak to mean “This crowd is horrible and sitting there with their arms folded, seemingly not enjoying anything and/or using their cell phones even though we’ve asked them not to.”

Later someone else tweeted that he heard that Jack was not happy with the sound at the venue and didn’t want to continue. I would guess that’s it could have been a combination of both.

But honestly folks, if you were in his shoes, and you were unhappy with either the crowd or the sound, would you really feel obligated to go out there and but on a brave face in the midst of crappy conditions? I know people are disappointed, but what they have to understand is that Jack does not do this at EVERY show — when I saw him play at the Wiltern in LA a few months back, he was in a great mood and the show was really really awesome.

I know I’m sounding like I’m blaming the “victims” but really, you are not victims if you have enough discretionary income to blow some mildly mad stacks on a fancy concert. News flash: you are angry privileged people.Get over it.

Guinness says that since publishing the record, which was set with their 2007 one-note concert at St John’s in Newfoundland, Canada, others have challenged its validity — some claiming that just appearing on stage was enough to break the record.

As a result, Jackie has taken the piss out of the whole situation and decided to very seriously attempt to set a new record of “Most metaphors in a single concert.”

Concert-goers of his upcoming tour are encouraged not to “interfere or interject with any metaphors that they witness” during the show “as to not disqualify or worse yet, trivialize the metaphor in question. Audience members are encouraged to “entice as many metaphors to occur during the show… as long as they don’t’ endanger themselves or Mr. White.”

According to Ryan, for this tour he is doing all solo sets (yup, no Cardinals) because… he is. But he still has the classic crazy Ryan Adams between song banter — this time hypothesizing what would happen if you came to a Live on Letterman taping and KISS was performing, the “real” pyrotechnic show that is usually on display during “Lucky Now”, and an in-depth rant on the failings of the fourth season of “Moonlighting.”

Vocally, Ry Ry has never sounded better. Clear, crisp, and in control, I thought his voice was beautiful during the whole performance. He did an understated version of “New York, New York” on the piano — after which the guy a row in front of me shouted, “We still love you too, Ryan!” Another song of note was a cover of Bob Mould’s “Black Sheets of Rain.”

It’s been quite a while since I’ve seen Ryan perform (was at the last time the 2008 Cafe Select show????), so I was delighted when he played some older hits — especially “English Girls Approximately” — as soon as he hit the chorus of the song I was reminded how MUCH I love that song. (The playing of “Love Is Hell” will be occurring all day today.)

More classic Adams details included Ry dressed in a black tee with red design, jeans, brown workbooks — but most importantly, one impossibly expensive looking black leather jacket with an homage to Iron Maiden painted along the entire back. (Of course!!)

Oh My Sweet Carolina
Ashes & Fire
If I Am A Stranger
Dirty Rain
New York, New York (piano)
Do I Wait
Lucky Now
Jacksonville Skyline
Black Sheets of Rain (Bob Mould cover)
English Girls Approximately
16 Days

My personal music marathon started out with the Seattle-based upstarts, Beat Connection, who were fresh off the red-eye from the Left Coast. Their set started off with a bit of a bumpy start — with the laptop not cooperating just a couple songs in. While the band waited for the Mac to kick back in, they explained that they were super excited to be at CMJ, because it was their first time ever at the festival (as performers or attendees). Awww!